All I Ever Wanted
by xx.just.a.contradiction.xx
Summary: All I Ever Intended' from Oliver's point of view. KBxOW, loooong oneshot.


**All I Ever Wanted:  
Oliver's Story.**

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Her smile widened as she noted that his long, toned body took up most of the double bed's space, and as she walked over and sat down next to him on the bed, she felt an overwhelming sense of affection rush through all her senses. Reaching out to touch his back, she traced the long, slightly raised scar that ran from his right shoulder-bone down to his left hip. _

_He stirred at her touch and rolled over to look up at her, his smile fading as he soon as he saw the tears glistening in her eyes. Sighing, he sat up and pulled her to his naked torso, shuffling his body back up the bed towards the top, where he leant against the wall and cradled her in his lap._

'_I don't understand you Katie,' he said quietly as she sobbed into his chest, 'that scar is nearly two years old, I'm still alive and perfectly healthy… you just can't let things go, can you?'_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

She could never let things go.

Before the war it had bothered Oliver very little that Katie had the unfortunate habit of becoming overly attached to, well, _everything_, but in the years after the war – years that should have been spent making up for their lost time – her inability to accept and leave behind their horrific past had begun to tear them apart.

This continued, until at last, on that fateful day a few weeks before Christmas, he'd admitted to her that he didn't know how to make her happy any more, and understandably upset, she had left… but she didn't come back either.

Almost three years on, Oliver still struggled to live life with some sort of normality. Much like the girlfriend he'd once had, he had no family left and very few friends he could count on – the absence of her was a void he couldn't fill, not with alcohol, not even with quidditch. While she'd been in it, Katie had filled both his life and his very being with some sort of purpose and now that she was no longer a part of his life, it seemed he had lost every sense of who he was as well.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

'Wood, mate, you coming out with us tonight?'

Pausing in the midst of listlessly pulling off his muddy quidditch robes, Oliver turned his gaze on Andy Bishop, his fellow Puddlemere United team-mate.

'Where're you off to?' he asked, yanking the robes over his head and shaking his sweaty dark hair out of his eyes, 'Because if it's another strip club, you know the answer.'

Rolling his eyes, Andy sighed.  
'Look, Ol, this has gone way too far – it's been three years.'

'And if you think I'm not aware of that then you're a git, Bishop,' Oliver replied sharply, turning his back on the chaser and wincing as he remembered the reaction that simple gesture could cause.

There was the predictable hiss of wonder as the entire change room was exposed to the livid scar that ran down his back, and Oliver turned back around again, quickly tugging a black t-shirt on.

'I know it's hard mate, but c'mon,' Andy plundered on, either bravely or in complete and utter stupidity, 'find yourself a nice-looking girl and you'll forget all about Karen… or Kay… or whatever her name was.'

'Katie,' said Oliver gruffly, 'and no… I'm not going to rebound – I don't do the breaking-a-girl's-heart thing intentionally, and rebounding is exactly what that is… so no.'

Andy exchanged a look with their team seeker Matt Jennings, before shrugging.  
'Fair enough then Wood, when you're ready, you're ready.'

They stared each other down for a minute before Andy broke the glare and trudged into the showers, muttering something about Oliver's seeming incurable case of stubbornness.

'Don't worry about it Wood,' said Jennings with a comradely clap to his back, 'he's just worried about you, is all, we all are to tell you the truth.'

'I'm fine Jennings,' Oliver said, picking up his bag of gear and slinging it over his shoulder, 'I'm just fine.'

With an abrupt cough, Oliver smiled briefly at his team-mate before pulling his wand out of the side pocket of the bag and disappearing with a crack.

Glad to be alone and aware from the accusatory stares of his Puddlemere team-mates, Oliver sighed as he collapsed onto the lounge of his cosy country-side cottage, kicking off his still-laced quidditch boots and wriggling his stiff toes in front of the fire he'd just conjured. Rolling off the lounge tiredly and coming to an awkward stop right in front of the fireplace, Oliver smiled sadly as a silver-framed photograph caught his eye, its metallic outer rim glinting in the warm glow of the flames.

'Dammit Katie, you're killing me,' he croaked quietly, pointing his wand at the photograph which floated down and sat itself beside his head neatly.

Rolling onto his side, Oliver stared at it dreamily, chuckling as his form in miniature chased a madly giggling Katie around the outside of their cottage, the pair of them lobbing snowballs at each other. She looked so incredibly beautiful, her light-brown hair whipping her in the face, her blue eyes gleaming with happiness… and he himself looked unthinkably ecstatic, chasing her around, catching her and kissing her…

Overcome by a wave of anger and combined sadness, he reached out and placed the photograph face-down on the mat, muttering 'what I wouldn't give to see you right now Kates.'

_Came up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you, tell you I need you  
And tell you I set you apart_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- 

Woken suddenly by two consecutive and extremely loud cracks, Oliver sat up quickly, wincing as his back twinged. Staring around, amazed at how he'd managed to fall asleep on the wooden floor of his lounge room, he frowned slightly as the sounds of two all-too familiar voices drifted in from the kitchen.

Getting to his feet and rubbing his stiff, cold limbs tenderly, he shuffled into the kitchen to see the Weasley twins, for some reason, sifting through the large pile of un-opened bills and fan mail on the bench.

'What're you two doing h-he-here?' he asked, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn.

'Oliver!' cried Fred joyfully, quickly returning his handful of mail back to its rightful place.

'What marvellous fortune it is to see you old boy!' said George with a grin, dumping his own handful of mail back on the pile and reaching out to shake his ex-captain's hand vigorously.

Eyeing them warily, Oliver shuffled over to the kettle and went to tap it with his wand, before realising he'd left it in the lounge room. Sighing, he turned. 'What can I do for you?'

'Do we _need_ a reason to come see _you_, Oliver?' asked Fred in apparent amazement.

'I thought for sure we'd be welcome just for a visit!' said George with a sad shake of his head, 'Shattered, simply shattered.'

Rolling his eyes, Oliver glared at them.  
'I'm not functioning well this morning Weasley; just tell me what you're here for.'

'Well,' began Fred, leaning over and tapping the kettle with his wand, 'we're here on behalf –'

'-of our lovely and ever insistent wives – ' continued George.

'- who are of course _insisting_ – '

'– that you join us two weeks from today – '

'- for a special reunion party they –'

'- are both organising.'

'Must you do that splitting-your-sentences thing?' said Oliver tiredly, massaging his temples and looking quite like he was ready to scull the steaming kettle of black coffee straight from the jug.

'Terribly sorry old boy.' said Fred obnoxiously with a grin.

'So are you coming or what?' asked George, taking a mug out of the cupboard and pouring Oliver a steaming cup of coffee and handing it to him.

'Erm, yes, I suppose.' He said with a nod of thanks, accepting the mug and gulping at it eagerly.

'I do have to warn you however;' said Fred, his expression turning serious, 'that Katie's also been invited.'

'Oh.'

'And if you do anything to upset her, we _will_ hurt you.' George continued, glaring at the Scotsman.

'Ah.'

'So, we advise you to be on your best behaviour.' Fred finished, poking Oliver in the chest quite viciously.

'Ouch! Yes, alright. I wouldn't hurt her on purpose anyway.' Oliver said, massaging his chest with a scowl.

'Good.' The twins chimed together with a satisfactory nod, 'Cheerio then.'

And before he could do anything else, they disappeared with a crack, leaving him standing quite bewildered and with a sore chest, in the middle of the kitchen holding his mug of black coffee. It took him a few minutes to register everything that had happened before he pulled a face.

'Bleargh! I _hate_ black coffee!'

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

'But what in the bloody hell are you supposed to wear to a reunion?'

Sitting back in his chair with a thoughtful expression, Jennings tapped the side of his butterbeer vacantly. 'I'm not sure… I'd say semi-formal, you know, nice jeans, good shirt, maybe a jacket.'

Grunting, Oliver slumped forwards onto the table.  
'I don't own anything like that.'

'Are you kidding me?' Jennings exclaimed, slopping a bit of his butterbeer onto his Puddlemere jersey, 'What did you wear to that press conference last month?'

'Uh, I didn't _attend_ that press conference last month,' Oliver replied, sipping from his tankard, 'I don't really do the whole "social thing" any more, really.'

Jennings rolled his eyes.  
'Of course, Oliver the cave-dweller.'

Scowling, Oliver kicked his friend under the table.  
'None of that now, I need help!'

'Alright, alright,' said Jennings with a grin, 'Andy and I'll take you shopping – so when is this reunion-thing anyhow?'

Oliver looked sheepish.  
'Erm, well, tonight..?'

Choking, Jennings stared at him.  
'Merlin, Oliver Wood, sometimes I think you don't own a brain.'

'Okay, alright, I get your point,' Oliver said hurriedly, a bit offended, 'can you come quickly with me now? We're guys; it'll only take an hour at the most.'

'Wait here,' said Jennings, getting up from his chair, 'I'll go and get Eliza, she knows this great place in Glasgow that'll get you suited up.'

Leaving Oliver to his own devices, Jennings walked back into the house, calling for his wife. While he waited, Oliver studied his reflection in the glass table-top.

'I think I might need a shave.' he mused, quite to himself.

'I concur most heartily,' said a merry female voice, and Oliver smiled as Eliza Jennings walked out, her white-blonde hair in its usual ringlets about her delicate face, 'so Matt tells me you need some clothes to wear to a reunion?'

'Uh, yeah,' he said, draining his butterbeer and standing up, giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

'Right, well we'll just wait for Matt to hurry up and we'll go,' she said, 'now what time does it start?'

'Six-ish?' Oliver replied indifferently with a shrug, shivering slightly against the chilly night air.

Glancing at her watch Eliza blanched.  
'Oliver, its five-thirty now!'

'We'd best get a move on then, hadn't we?' suggested her husband as he walked out, locking the sliding door behind him and taking her hand, 'c'mon, the faster we apparate the less-late he'll be.'

'I hate this,' said Eliza with a pout as her wizarding husband pulled her into an embrace, 'I don't know how you magic lot put up with it all the time.'

Laughing, Oliver pulled his wand from his pocket and at an amused nod from Jennings, the three of them apparated.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

'Well, don't you look handsome?'

Wriggling uncomfortably underneath the approving gazes of Angelina and Ginny, Oliver walked into the house, glad to get out of the blizzard-like weather outside.

'Sorry I'm late,' he said awkwardly, stamping his feet on the door mat and following them as they walked back into the main part of the house, 'I couldn't find anything to wear.'

'Since when do _you_ care how you look?' asked Angelina curiously, leading him into the entertainment area, where Ginny whisked away to stand beside Harry, who immediately leant down and pressed his lips to her forehead.

_Tell me your secrets, and nurse me your questions  
Oh let's go back to the start_

Feeling a flash of envy rush through him, Oliver coughed slightly and held up the bottles of vodka Eliza had supplied him with in a chastising manner, when she'd realised he had nothing to take to the reunion. 'Where do you want these?'

'Fred and George are doing the drinks,' she said with a roll of her dark eyes, 'they've already knocked Ron out – gave him something that sent him right off to sleep, Hermione's not been able to wake him up.'

Laughing, Oliver shook his head.  
'Those two.'

'Indeed.' She said, laughing also, 'well, I'll leave you to face the crowd, thanks for coming Oliver.'

Watching her walk off, Oliver placed the bottles of vodka down and shrugged out of his simple black suit jacket, laying it carefully across the arm of the sofa. Then, picking up the bottles again, he made his way slowly towards the kitchenette/bar area, stopping every few metres to greet somebody.

The twins were talking to Hermione and another girl who had her back turned to him, when he arrived at the kitchenette, apparently about the topic of Ron's unfortunate but apparently deserved stupor.

'But what we actually didn't tell him was that Alfie was actually wearing a mask of Ron's own stupid face.' Fred was saying when he walked up.

'Where _are_ Alfie and all the kids anyway?' Oliver asked amidst the laughter of Hermione and the girl he didn't recognise, who choked on something as he drew nearer.

'Uh, they're at ours.' said George with a worried glance at the choking girl, 'Mum and Dad are babysitting them.'

Ah,' said Oliver with a smile, moving up in between Hermione and the still-choking woman and leaning over the bar to place the two bottles of vodka on the counter, 'my muggle friend from Glasgow gave me these, she said they're strong though, so go easy on it.'

'Thanks Oliver,' Fred said brightly, coming around the bar to clap him on the back in a friendly fashion, before also glancing worriedly at the now violently coughing brunette.

'No problem…' turning, he smiled at Hermione, who had inched around him to help her coughing friend, 'Hello Hermione, how're you?'

'I'm-I'm good thanks,' said Hermione, looking slightly afraid of him as she patted her friend's back softly.

'Who's this here that's choking? I don't quite recognise you.' Oliver said, frowning as he suddenly realised that she looked familiar to him.

Those hips and slender waist were so familiar… her hair too, was so similar to someone else's he knew, though longer and a slightly more reddish colour… and then, all of a sudden, as she turned on him, he realised…

'K-Katie?' he stammered, stumbling backwards at the mere shock of her appearance and his own stupidity in not recognising her.

'Am I really that changed Wood?' she said coldly, thanking Hermione for her help and strutting past him, spilling some of her drink on him as she purposefully clipped his shoulder.

_Running in circles, coming in tails  
Heads on a science apart  
_

Wincing as the butterbeer seeped into his new black dress-shirt, Oliver tore after her, calling her name loudly.

Hearing him coming after her, she began to run, albeit somewhat unsteadily due to the sheer height of the heels she was wearing. Increasing his speed, Oliver shoved through the crowd, ignoring Davies as he slurred something at him, and not stopping to greet Alicia, who watched both of her friends bolt past her confusedly, just calling out a hurried 'Hi!'.

'Katie! Katie stop!'

Stumbling to a halt in front of the bathroom, Katie slipped inside and out of his sight for a minute, before he skidded in behind her, connecting with the door with a dull thud, his foot stopping it from closing. Hissing angrily, Katie shoved against the door, making him yelp with pain as his foot was crushed between door and frame.

'Stop it!' she cried angrily, 'stop it, just leave me alone!'

'I just want to talk to you, that's all!' he grunted, launching all his body weight into the door and feeling it slowly start to give under the pressure, the screech of her heels as they were pushed backwards along the bathroom tiles painful to his ears.

'This isn't fair, you're stronger than me!'

'What d'you expect me to do, ease up on you?' he asked, incredulous, Katie had never before admitted defeat to his larger body strength, always preferring to ignore it.

_Nobody said it was easy  
It's such a shame for us to part  
_

Realising she would probably be distracted at their verbal banter, Oliver, in a questionable state of mind rammed the door, and was surprised when it immediately gave way to his strength. Surprise that quickly turned to horror as he heard the thud of Katie's body as it hit the bathroom wall.

Rushing inside, he hurried in, standing a few feet away, his expression pained and looking extremely guilty.

She was lying sprawled against the wall, dazed and wincing with the pain in her shoulder, which was what had connected with the wall first: not the ideal situation but at least it hadn't been her head. Her gaze sliding back into focus, she shot him a look of pure hatred and stumbled to her feet, clutching the towel rack with both hands.

Moving forwards, Oliver made to help her.  
'Katie, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to push that hard.'

Snarling, she stumbled back into the wall, away from him.  
'Don't come near me! Don't touch me you _bastard_!'

Flinching, Oliver stopped and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  
'I'm sorry for- for… I'm sorry for everything Kates… if you decide you want to hear what I have to say then you know where I'll be.'

He looked at her sadly for a moment before admitting defeat and walking away, the guilt bubbling in his stomach unbearably.

_Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be this hard  
Oh take me back to the start_

Heading back down the corridor, Oliver didn't see where he was going – didn't know where he was going, and more to the point, he didn't really care. Katie still hated him, and quite rightly too, and it was all he could do to stop himself from howling with misery.

If only he hadn't been so stupid as to tell her he couldn't make her happy… Of course he couldn't make her happy – he didn't _deserve_ her! Maybe she'd never really loved him at all? Maybe she really had and he'd thrown it away? …Maybe he'd even thrown away any chance he'd ever had at happiness at all?

'Oliver mate, what happened? One minute you were here, next moment you just… weren't!'

Looking up, Oliver realised he was back at the kitchenette, the twins looking at him curiously as they shook up martinis for their guests.

'I… Katie… we…'

Unable to find the words for what had happened, he walked around the bar and sank down behind it, thumping his head repeatedly against the cupboard. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid fucking idiot! Oliver, you fucking _idiot_.'

'First sign of madness, talking to yourself,' George informed him, looking down at him with one risen ginger eyebrow.

Ignoring him, Oliver continued to bash his head against the cupboard, but this time kept his self-berating to himself. Closing his eyes, the stream of self-doubt and questions washing over him like a rush of ocean he could drown in, he stayed like that for what felt like ages, his self-disgust growing with every minute.

'Okay, that's enough, what'd you do?'

Fred's voice breaking into his thoughts, Oliver opened his eyes reluctantly, realising it had only been a few minutes since he'd closed them.

'Accidentally nearly killed Katie.' He said bluntly, raising an arm up to the bench, fumbling with his fingers for a minute and grabbing the nearest object that he could, which just so happened to be one of his bottles of vodka.

Opening it, he took a large swig from it and sighed, waiting for the alcohol to calm his nerves. However, any hope of consuming more was immediately taken from him when Fred wrestled the bottle from him, and to his utmost surprise, slapped him in the face.

'Snap out of it you great git!'

Scowling, Oliver felt the sudden urge to slug his younger friend in the stomach. He managed however, to contain this urge and instead allowed himself to be dragged to his feet by both the twins, who were looking at him with traces of disgust and amusement.

'What d'you mean you nearly killed her?' George asked, eyeing him accusingly.

'We were wrestling with the door and I rammed it, she fell and hit the wall.' He said, glancing at the vodka bottle pitifully.

'Did you make sure she's alright?' Fred enquired with a roll of his eyes.

'Yeah, she's fine… just hates me still.' He sighed, slumping back against the counter.

'You can't exactly blame her – she's had such a hard time trying to get on without you,' said a new voice and Ginny walked in, two champagne glasses in hand, 'where's that champagne Seamus brought with him?'

Cracking open the bottle, Fred poured her two glasses, still glaring at Oliver.  
'You're an idiot.'

'Don't I know it?' said Oliver sadly.

'Oh, snap out of your self-pity,' Ginny said sharply, surprising them all at this turn from her usual serene voice, 'I'm sick of it – both you and Katie, moping around all the time! Gods, just snog and get over it!'

Jaw dropped open like a goldfish; Oliver stared after her as she walked back out again, glasses in hand, her small, curvy body sheathed in a black dress not unlike the one Katie had on, except much, much tighter.

'If that dress wasn't so bloody tight, I'd say she was pregnant.' said George with a smirk, 'she's been so moody lately.'

'I really don't want to know.' said Fred with a cough, mixing up more martinis, 'but seriously Wood, you're the biggest git sometimes.'

Hanging his head, Oliver glared at his feet.

The twins continued on with the mixing of their drinks, chatting to Harry who had just turned up, and he stood there for a full ten minutes, contemplating the best way to jump off a bridge, muttering under his breath.

_I was just guessing at numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart.  
_

This soliloquy, so to speak, was interrupted though, when George popped the cork on another champagne bottle and it soared into the air and hit Oliver directly in the middle of his forehead with a dull thunk. Startled, he yelped, frowning at the twins and Harry as they exploded into laughter.

Pursing his lips, he ducked down to get the cork and was promptly nearly run over by Ginny and Katie, who came stumbling in, also giggling hysterically. Sinking down behind the bar, the girls continued to laugh, and Oliver, confused, stared at them: in particular Katie, whose face had regained some of its former brightness – had begun to look more like it did in the photo he had of them throwing snow at each other at home.

Pausing in her laughter to draw in much needed oxygen, Katie suddenly realised that Oliver was less than a foot away from her and shrieked, jumping to her feet and startling the twins.

Scared, Fred dropped the martini canister on his sister's head. Ginny immediately stopped laughing and snarled at him, before realising Oliver was still on the floor beside her. 'Oliver what are you doing down here?'

Resolutely trying to ignore Katie, who was being stopped from escaping the kitchen by George who had her in a gentle kind of head-lock, Oliver offered her a hand up. 'I could ask you much the same question… what was so funny?'

'Lavender's _lavender_ dress.' said Ginny with a snort, before exchanging glances with Fred and George.

She said something that Oliver didn't catch – he was too busy staring at Katie – and before he knew what was happening, all three siblings were walking off towards the dining room, Harry in their wake.

Oliver was left standing across the kitchen from Katie, who looked down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze. There was an awkward silence, filled only by their heavy breathing as each tried to think of something to say, until Oliver finally broke it.

'So you weren't coming to find me then?'

She looked up.  
'No, I was escaping Lavender Brown.'

Feeling the cold in her reply make his entire body convulse in compulsive shivers, he clenched his teeth and spoke again. 'I really am sorry you know.'

She said nothing, merely grunting and bending down to fix the strap on her shoe, her long brown curls falling down past her face in a silken curtain, separating them.

'We used to be friends once, before we started going out and all that… we used to be so close Kates – I've missed you like you wouldn't believe.'

What was he saying? He was making it sound as though he wanted them to be friends again… which of course, he wanted. But it would never be enough, and he knew it.

_Questions of science, science and progress  
Don't speak as loud as my heart._

Plundering on in the effort to make it sound as though he wanted her back – but not just as friends – he spoke again, though this time he should probably have just kept his mouth shut.

'You um, you look amazing. I can't believe how different you look though… so much older.'

'Do you do this with all your ex-girlfriends?' she replied suddenly, taking him by surprise, 'Apologise and then tell them that they used to be ugly but now look better because they look old?'

'I'm trying my best here, this isn't easy!' Oliver retorted sharply, stung but trying not to show it.

'And you think it's easier for me?' she cried with a dry sob, 'I've had to live the last three years practically by myself – no family, my friends all too busy with their own lives, no best-friend any more because I was so stupid as to think he might actually have loved me…'

His heart leaping, though it was entirely the wrong action for what she'd said, Oliver realised that he'd been wrong… that she _had_ loved him as more than a friend… and that maybe she still did.

'I do love you!' he yelled back compulsively, wincing as he realised how desperate he sounded.

'You might've once.' She corrected him coldly, turning to leave.

Realising that he _was_ indeed as desperate as he sounded, if not more so, he stepped forwards. 'Don't walk out again Katie; don't make the same mistake twice.'

Turning, her cold and indifferent façade crumbling before his very eyes, she stumbled towards him, clutching the bench. 'I'd only just gotten over you Oliver; I'd only just started trying to live without you… don't do this to me.'

Recognising the same desperate, sad, lonely look in her blue eyes that he'd been forced to see in his own dark ones every night for three years, Oliver felt his insides melt, seeming to mould together into one massive organ which thumped a beat for her so loud he was surprised she didn't hear it.

'I never even tried.'

She shook her head, apparently unable to believe him.  
'Don't lie to me, you could have any girl you wanted, any time, any where… don't tell me you never had any other girl but me.'

He was so frustrated that he couldn't get the words out fast enough; angry that she could think something like that when he'd spent every day pining for someone to walk along and make him forget about her…

'I didn't, though, I never had any girl but you – never _wanted_ any girl but you… you were the one girl I _couldn't_ have.'

She began to cry, letting go of the bench and tumbling towards the floor, caught at the last minute when he stretched out his arms – a safety net for her to fall into. Pulling her up, he held her close, crushing her against him, inhaling her scent like a drug, his body screaming for her and his heart thumping its approval.

_Tell me you love me, and come back and haunt me,  
Oh, when I rush to the start  
_

'I never wanted anyone but you either,' she croaked amidst her tears, pressing her face into his neck, 'you were the only person I had left…'

Holding her close, Oliver felt the tears start to seep from his own eyes too. She was unbelievably gorgeous when she cried – her vulnerability was so painfully beautiful it hurt to watch.

'You're my family, my life and my whole world Katherine Bell, don't ever leave me again.'

Pulling away from his neck, she sniffed, a watery smile lighting up her face, her fingertips lightly tracing the part of his chest exposed by the open collar of his shirt. Smiling back at her, revelling in the light, spidery touch of her fingers as they skated across his skin, he felt his body continue to scream for her, the urge so incredibly, unbearably strong, it took all of his self control not to kiss her right then and there.

And so they stood there smiling goofily at one another, shivering with anticipation, until Katie suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen. Confused but invigorated at the same time, Oliver stumbled behind her as she wove her way through the crowd of dancing people, his chest feeling lighter than it had felt in years.

'Where are we going?' he leant in and whispered to her, laughing when she merely winked in reply, a wicked smirk on her face.

They'd only just reached the corridor when she broke into a run, letting go of his hand. Taking this as an invitation, he raced after her, following the sounds of her musical laughter and the clatter of her heels. She stopped in front of the guest laundry and shimmied inside, pulling him in with her and closing the door behind them.

_Running in circles, chasing tails  
coming back as we are._

As she turned to face him, Oliver gave a start of surprise as he suddenly placed the curious, blazing expression in her deep blue eyes… desire.

Unsure, he tentatively reached out and stroked a shivering, gentle line from the base of her jaw to the top of her collar bone, smiling victoriously as his touch turned her skin to gooseflesh. His chest was still thumping loudly and his desire was beating in time – a perfect harmony to the anticipating thud-like melody.

Just when he thought he could take it no more, that he couldn't bear to keep so far away from her, Katie launched herself at him, the tears that had been running silently down her cheeks spattering him in the face as she pushed him flush up against the wall. She kissed him hungrily, _violently _even with an intensity he'd never seen, or indeed felt, before in his life.

The beat of his desire drowning out everything else now, Oliver clutched her to him, smirking into her mouth as she began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. As she pulled away to relieve him of the offending item of clothing, Oliver breathed in much-needed oxygen, shivering under the fine film of sweat that had cloaked his body.

Stripping the shirt away, Katie stood back to look at him admiringly with a wicked grin. 'You've still got it.'

She laughed a laugh high and chiming as he leant forward and caught her up in a half-hug, half-lift, snorting at her brazenness and kissing her urgently, obsessively, crushing her against the wall. With her stuck between him and the wall, a little higher than would allow her feet to touch the ground, Oliver slipped the dress off her shoulders and yanked it the length of her, his heart aching at the sight of her exquisitely familiar body.

Tearing his gaze away reluctantly he kissed her again, weaving his fingers through her hair momentarily, relishing the silken richness, before lifting her up to him and placing her down gently on the washing machine so he didn't have to bend down so much any more.

She hissed into his mouth at the cold clash of her bare thighs on the metal of the washer, but Oliver was too caught up to notice much. He was far too preoccupied with trailing his kisses away from her mouth and down her jaw and neck, all the way to between her breasts where he breathed out suddenly onto the tender skin, revelling at its instantaneous reaction of goosebumps.

Katie gave a low moan and he pulled away for a second to voice something that been bothering him slightly.

'I'm – surprised – you – were – that – quick – with – my – buttons – shouldn't – you – be – out – of – practise?'

He accompanied each word with a kiss, unable to bear to keep away from her – he was well and truly gone; addicted to her now, more strongly than ever before.

Skating her fingertips down his naked torso to the silver buckle of the belt he'd very recently bought, Katie smiled. 'Why would I be? I only ever practised with you.'

For some reason, besides finding this hilariously funny, Oliver also found it incredibly sexy and as he continued to kiss her, his shaking hands found the clasp to the black, minimally lacy bra she wore.

Katie quickly pulled away, looking slightly guilty.  
'You can't just make love to me on top of Angelina and Fred's washer.'

'Can't I?' he replied indifferently, unable to contain his wicked grin, 'that's a shame, because I'm going to anyway.'

Laughing, Katie gave in, guiding his fingers to the clasp, trying hard not to shriek at the unbelievable brazenness of it all. Oliver, on the other hand, besides being preoccupied with the finicky little clasp, could hear the twins, Alicia and Angelina hedging bets on what was happening in the laundry.

But quite frankly, he just didn't care…

_Tell me you love me, and come back and haunt me,  
Oh, when I rush to the start…_  
_Actions and words, no, nothing at all,  
Can speak as loud as my heart._

* * *

A/N: lyrics used "The Scientist" by Coldplay. 

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_Dedicated to Just-Giddy,  
because:  
a) she's awesome  
b) she makes me laugh  
c) she didn't think "All I Ever Intended" was racy.. and this is worse than the other one.  
d) everyone knows she's in love with Fred and Fred guest-stars in this quite a lot._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Okay, I know that this seems a little a repetetive, but as soon as this song came on my iPod this afternoon i immediately thought of Oliver.. and when i looked up the lyrics they seemed to fit so perfectly with "All I Ever Intended" and i started, just for something to do, to write Oliver's version.. and then i had fourteen pages of Oliver' point of view. and i liked it. so voila, here it is.

Hope you all liked it.

x


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